


Death, Pweethch

by Rose Emily (toomuchplor)



Series: Superboy Universe [1]
Category: Smallville
Genre: Established Relationship, Futurefic, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-27
Updated: 2004-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-01 04:38:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/352009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toomuchplor/pseuds/Rose%20Emily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the Superboy Universe (see I'm Carrying My Gay Alien Lover's Child).  Schmoopy cute Clex with kids.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death, Pweethch

"Daddy!" 

Clark wakes to the sound and opens his eyes to see Lex slipping back into bed. "Yeah, Kent?" Lex shouts, with an apologetic glance at Clark. 

"I skoogulate wif thchatso, okay?" Kenny's calling from the living room, and Clark can make out the sounds of the television set in the background. 

Lex answers quickly, pressing his cold bare feet up against Clark's warm legs. "Okay!" 

Clark raises an eyebrow. "Do you have any clue what he just said?" 

Lex shakes his head. "No." 

Clark grins, having expected this answer, and pulls Lex close. "What do they _do_ with him in speech therapy, anyway? He still sounds like he's speaking Klingon most of the time." 

"Clearly, he's doing a lot of exercises involving skoogulating and thchatsos," answers Lex in his sleepy morning voice. "Mmm. Bugs Bunny is on for half an hour. Wanna mess around?" 

"Remember when we were going to be the good parents who never let their TV be the babysitter?" Clark asks playfully, letting Lex's cool fingers slip up under his t-shirt. 

Lex squints, thinking hard. "I seem to vaguely recall a time when we didn't have to wait for Bugs Bunny in order to have sex -- was it then?" 

So they kiss for a few minutes until Lex remembers he didn't lock the bedroom door yet. Kenny, with his kid-radar for grown-up alertness, chooses this moment to have another shouted conversation, this time about "the wheel" and "doh". Clark manages to translate from the Klingon fast enough to recognize this as a plea for help with Kenny's morning cheerios and milk. They narrowly avert a culinary disaster involving large amounts of oat o's, and by the time Lex has corralled all the cereal back into the pantry, Bugs Bunny is wrapping up his show. 

"Monster, do you remember what's happening today?" Clark asks, wiping the remains of breakfast from his son's face. 

"Gwama's toming," Kenny answers confidently. He doesn't seem to speak English proficiently, but Clark and Lex are fairly certain that he understands most of what goes on in the household, which is impressive for a two and a half year old. 

"And grandpa," agrees Clark. "Should we go and find that nice sweater grandma made you?" 

"Death," Kenny says cheerily. Usually, this means 'yes', though strangers seem to find the exchange of words a little disconcerting. 

* * *

When Martha walks in the door, there's an air of recent conflict in the penthouse. She has just enough time to wonder if Clark and Lex are fighting when she notices that Lex is holding a small wet pair of pants in one hand. 

"How was the drive up?" he asks wearily, seemingly unaware of the pee-smell emanating from the tiny garment. 

"It was quiet for a Saturday," says Martha, and Jonathan agrees. "Where are Clark and Kent?" 

Lex inclines his head towards the hallway leading to the bathroom before turning to offer Jonathan a beer. Martha decides to leave the pee-pants issue to Lex, and goes off in search of her grandson. 

She can hear his little voice, counterpointed with Clark's heavier tone, from outside the bathroom. There are splashing sounds indicative of a bath, so she stays in the hallway and listens, not wanting to interrupt. 

"It's okay, though. Because accidents happen," finishes Clark. 

"Death," says Kenny. "Ass dents uppen." 

"Close your eyes, I'm gonna wash your face," orders Clark. Kenny mewls in protest, but Clark was using that Superman voice that doesn't brook argument. Martha smiles and leans against the wall, enjoying the chance to listen in on her son being a father. 

"I want out," says Kenny. He always seems to manage the sentences that involve things he wants to happen immediately. 

"Not yet, monster. What's the song?" 

"Head, sollduhs, nees, anthoes," chants Kenny in reply. 

"What's this?" asks Clark with a splash. 

"Ebo." 

"And this?" 

"Hand." 

"And this?" This question is followed by a flurry of giggles. "Belly button," supplies Clark with an audible grin. They go on, cataloguing Kenny's body parts so that Clark can get through the process before Kenny goes wild with impatience. By the time they get to toes ('noes'), Kenny is having a great time. 

"Time to get out," Clark announces. 

"Noooooooooooooooooo," moans Kent. 

"Yep. Tonight, you can have a special bath in Daddy's big tub, okay? With all the toys. But right now, you have to get ready for Grandma and Grandpa." Martha can hear Clark lifting Kent out of the tub as he speaks, and she decides to help curtail the emerging tantrum. 

"Where's my little cookie monster?" she asks, popping her head in the door. 

Seconds later, she's a human towel for a very wet little boy. 

* * *

"Don't sit there," says Lex abruptly when Jonathan goes to settle into the armchair. He raises his son's pants in explanation. "Unless you brought a change of clothes." 

Jonathan stands up quickly, turning around to see the wet spot. 

"We think it might be an allergic reaction -- his pediatrician says sometimes if they're allergic to some kinds of fruit, they get this thing called a 'bladder sneeze'. But he's pretty little, still -- could just be an accident. He gets excited, he doesn't remember ..." Lex trails off with an exhalation. "This isn't quite what I expected." 

Jonathan laughs, seeing the look on his son-in-law's face. "It doesn't get any easier." He reaches down and pulls the wet cushion off the chair. "Just so you know." 

* * *

It's amazing how good Kent is at public speaking, Lex thinks, given that his son is mostly unintelligible to the general public. But he's holding grand court over this family dinner -- all conversational flow stutters to a halt whenever His Majesty deigns to speak. 

Mostly, it's because of dialogue like this: 

"Kent, would you like some more mashed potatoes?" asks Clark. 

"I be divided," says Kent with a gracious air. 

Lex wonders if perhaps their son has begun channelling the spirit of a long-dead pirate. "You ... be divided?" he repeats, uncertain. "You, what, are of two minds about this matter?" 

Kent is silent. It's unclear if he's waiting for potatoes or not. For all Lex can tell, Kent might have just expressed an interest in semiotic analysis. He's got a remarkable air of distraction for a person who still wears Pull-Ups to bed. 

"Kent, does that mean yes?" Clark asks patiently, casting an irritated look at Lex. Lex isn't supposed to make fun of Kent's speech pattern. It's on all the brightly coloured literature the speech therapist gave them. 

Kenny rolls his eyes in exasperation. He is far too young for that expression. Lex decides to blame Clark's genetic contribution for this. "Death," he says. "I be divided." 

This may or may not turn into an extended post-modern free verse poem, but Clark doesn't seem patient enough to await the next line. "What's the magic word?" 

When Kenny says it, the magic word is actually, "Pweethch." He utters it and Clark spoons another pinch of potato onto Kent's plate. 

"That's very nice, Kenny," says Martha approvingly. "What good manners you have." Lex privately thinks this is stretching the truth a little when Kenny proceeds to attack his potatoes with his fingers. 

"He's a big boy," agrees Jonathan. 

They've only just remembered that they were discussing the presidential race when Lex realizes. 

"I'd be delighted!" he blurts unintentionally. 

Clark gets it right away and starts laughing. 

Martha and Jonathan need more explanation. "I be divided," Lex says. "I'd be delighted." 

"Death, pweethch," contributes Kenny around a mouthful of half-chewed potato. 

His son might not say much, but what he does say keeps everyone guessing, Lex thinks. He might just be a tiny bit proud of that, too. 


End file.
